A real blog.

Where do I begin?

Mr. Weathers said today that any accomplished mystic writes poems about love.
I read things about love, and I am relatively unaccomplished in the act of it.
But I guess that doesn't really matter because I'm not really comparing myself to anything, except maybe God, with whom I cannot compare.

Humans love each other and people in books love each other. And God loves us (understatement) , and some of us love God.

People in movies also love each other, but that crosses the line for me because of romantic comedies. They are too pleasant.

"A test of what is real is that it is hard and rough. Joys are found in it, not pleasure. What is pleasant belongs to dreams."--Simone Weil.

I like pleasant things. I have too many pleasant things and not enough hard, rough things. This is a bad thing. However, when I do good things I don't often realize it because of taking them for granted. I revel in the moments of good things done to me, but do not in the reciprocal action.

Sometimes, all I hear are the bad things. Sometimes I need to find the good things myself, rather than others try and alleviate it. Others could be people. Others could be books. I hate it when others are romantic comedies.

I like the word "bothered". I do not like being bothered but I like the word. (Eh, maybe.) Pleasant is a nice word, but it is not good for me. It really isn't good for anyone, but I don't like to impose. Does that bother you? It's probably better for you if I did impose. I'll work on that. Sometimes, though, there is no need because all I see in some people is the joy and the good, and in others the pleasant, and sometimes a little of both, but it has become hard for me to see the bad. I like this, but I don't know what to make of it. It's probably a good thing.

If you're still reading this, I'm sorry. For imposing. For being like Joan Didion when she says that all writers impose. I am not going to try to edit this. Maybe it will be good to work on my impositions, rather than yours. Because these blogs are all about helping ourselves, right? Sometimes a little bit of communication here or there, but it seems to me in my little corner of the internet that I write for me. And that's okay.

I will not bold text, or underline it, or make my blog about conveying something to you. It will be about ....scratch that, it is about filling a void I am experiencing right now. I rejected God for a work of fiction today. And last night. But maybe I will tonight and maybe I won't. This blog will also be about me in the future coming back to this and realizing things and how I've changed. I know you have. It doesn't really matter to me if you're still reading now because I have realized in this moment that it is not about you. When we interact, I will try to make it about you, but this is my time right now and I'm using it.

I didn't start this thing off as Unedited, though I have tried that once. Couldn't do it. The style has changed. Things get longer because I don't look up from the keyboard. Okay, reader, it's back to me. Enough about it not being about you this time. Ha!

Impressions. I live on impressions. They are like food, I hate to use the word drug because I don't like using it on myself, but I really act with impressions. Nice to meet you, except in a nice way that I would say, "You know what? I like that guy" way. Somewhere along the way, I lose who I am. That can be good sometimes. Sometimes I don't like who I am. sometimes I love who I am. But I wouldn't change it for anything, ever. Nope. I wouldn't be you. I do love you though, partly because you're still reading. What a lame thing. But I'm okay with that because this one is not about impressions.

Back to them. Impressions. You can get to know me as an impression. Yeah, it happens. It's been done before. I have a feeling that you know who I really am though. And if you don't, we need to know each other because I really want to know people and you are one of those people whom I wish to know. And even if you know me, the undying odds say that I don't know you. Seriously. I am right in saying that I don't know you. Tell me everything and I will return the favor.

That is so lame. And I care, but not this time. Not now. see ya